


Beyond Coarse Fingertips is Paradise

by aj_socks



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Chronic Illness, Headaches & Migraines, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-25
Updated: 2011-06-25
Packaged: 2018-02-08 11:16:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1938909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aj_socks/pseuds/aj_socks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco has lived for two years with excruciating headaches, and the Healers just don't know what to do with him anymore. Luckily, he finds the cure in the unwelcome touch of Harry Potter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beyond Coarse Fingertips is Paradise

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended. 
> 
> This was written for the 2011 hp_didi_fest over on Livejournal. The prompt was by demicus.

“Is this normal?” Draco asked the woman sitting behind the large, cherry wood desk. Normally, he was the one with his elbows propped up on the desk with fake sympathy. She pushed her thick glasses up on her nose, and sighed.

“Mr. Malfoy, I have dealt with you these past two years and I have yet to see you have any normal reaction to our solutions. If this man can relieve your migraines, I am at a loss to why.”

“But – There has to be something else you can do. Those draughts helped for a bit. Maybe I can take a different one each day and -”

“We've tried everything. There is nothing else I can do for you. Who is he?”

“Mind your own goddamn business.”

“You are my business. There must be a reason why you are reacting to his touch this way. Has this ever happened before now?”

“The only thing I have ever gained from his touch is an intense desire to shower. Are we done here?”

“No, but from your tone I doubt we'll get anywhere else.” She paused. “Mr. Malfoy, before you go consider this. I have heard of a few cases where magic communicates what we truly need, because our pride does not allow us to realize it.”

Draco stood up, his legs pushed the chair back and it screeched against the floor. He left the office with a scowl on his face and his heart beating hard against his ribs. Once he was outside, he quickly ducked into a shadowed alley and rubbed his temples. His head pounded against his skull harder than his heart beat in his chest, and Draco fought tears. Her words had damned him. 

“Nothing else you can do?” Draco hit the wall with his foot, he was momentarily distracted by the pain that shot up from his toes up through his leg, but it didn't last long. “Bitch. If you won't do anything, then I will.”

With the promise on his lips, Draco Malfoy apparated back to his flat, where he switched off the lights and tried to soften the pain with darkness. The first time it happened, it had been an irritating anomaly that could be easily fixed. A mild headache, he called it, even though the pain was worse than being attacked by a hippogriff. Now, the pain had taken over his life. His office building and flat had dim lights only. Anyone caught turning them up was fired on the spot, and anyone that burst into his private office and let in light was also fired. With one exception.

Two days ago, Draco sat in his office with the lights off and his head buried in his hands. He massaged his temples and tried to relieve the pressure, but nothing helped. He downed another pain draught, but he had already taken double what was allowed. The door opened, letting in a ray of light that Draco quickly shielded his eyes from with his hands. He rubbed his temples and waited for the intruder to introduce himself.

“Mr. Malfoy? Blaise Zabini is downstairs. He says it's urgent.”

“Tell him to fuck off.”

Freddy had been with him long enough to accept that answer and close the door. The darkness enveloped Draco, but the throbbing continued. In the darkness, there was nothing but the consistent pang of pain in the right temple. 

Then, the door opened. Draco was normally a reasonable man, or at least he thought he treated his employees much better than his Father had so he deserved credit for trying. But when the door opened, revealing Blaise Zabini and an anxious Freddy trying to convince him to come back later, Draco shot up and stomped over to Blaise and shoved him from the room. 

“I told you to fuck off!” Draco took a threatening step forward so that his foot stomped the ground next to Blaise's stomach. He pulled out his wand. “I'm going to hex your bloody dick off and -”

Rough fingertips brushed against his hand and Draco halted his hex halfway. The deep, throbbing pain vanished, and for the first time in a year, Draco felt his entire body relax. 

“I can come back later,” the owner of the hand said. Draco recognized that voice. He would recognize that voice until he died. 

“Potter?”

“You didn't know? Blaise! You said you already told him!”

“I fibbed,” Blaise replied. He waited for Draco to say something, and when he didn't, he stood up and brushed the dust from his suit. “You wouldn't have come if I had told you the truth.”

“What is going on here?” Draco asked. “Blaise, why have you brought Potter here?”

“Well, he wanted to ask you to go into a business venture with him but after that display of anger -”

“I already knew he was obnoxious. That's not the problem. I just heard that Malfoy knew a lot about these things and I don't.”

Draco, still in a state of euphoria from the lack of headache, managed to look menacing and said, “And what on earth could I possibly know more about than the great Harry Pothead?”

“Foreigners. I heard your Father is still in the hospital in America.”

He pursed his lips together. Yes, his Father was still in America, along with his Mother. St. Mungos refused to take him after the war. In fact, the only hospital that was willing to take him was in America, and as a result he spent half the year there. It turned out that Snape had been lucky when he died. Those in Voldemort's inner circle went mad within days of his death, and their magic was unpredictable and dangerous. Even as his sanity returned, his magic was so damaged he couldn't use it without nearly lopping someone's head off.

“Yes, he's still there.” Draco eyed him carefully. “What does my experience in America have to do with anything?”

“I wanted to start a foreign exchange program for wizards and witches. I want them to see that others live differently than they do.”

“Uh huh. And how is this supposed to be profitable?”

And that was how it started. Harry Potter, his new business partner. Of course, that meant lots of time with Potter to ease his pain, didn't it? Except the damn Boy-Who-Lived was really the Boy-Who-Disappeared and seemed to always be too busy to come in person. Draco walked by a small coffee shop for the third time and tried to look inside without being suspicious. He couldn't take the pain anymore. 

Potter was sitting inside with what Muggles called a laptop and was smiling. He was smiling while Draco gritted his teeth in pain and wanted desperately to pummel him into the ground to relieve his headache. Potter stood to get another cup, and a man walking by slowed and looked him up and down, which made Draco's headache pound harder. He walked inside, purposely knocking into the other man, and tapped Harry on the shoulder.

The pain was gone. 

“Malfoy?”

Draco smiled. The pain was gone. Disappeared like Harry the past few days. 

“Malfoy! You there?”

Draco snapped back to reality, but the smile was permanently plastered on his face. “Fancy meeting you here, Potter. You know, businessmen usually meet to discuss the plans, not just drop off a mountain of paperwork without saying hello.”

He flushed. “I know I -”

“Good. We'll meet at the Garden Square to discuss it.” He turned and left, leaving a very confused Potter behind him and began planning. The only way to keep him around was to stall the plans in some way. Perhaps something happens to make the money come in slowly, or so he'd tell Potter. Or maybe he is not impressed by the plans and he decided it needed an extensive rewrite. Together. Draco grinned, never noticing that his plans all involved getting closer to the Boy-He-Despised than he ever thought possible. 

But it didn't exactly go to plan. Potter brought Granger with him and he acted like it was normal, or worse, expected. It wasn't, and although he expected the sound of her voice to make his headache worsen, the moment he brushed his hand against Harry's, it disappeared. 

“So Harry told me you were going to back his plan for the wizarding exchange program?” Hermione took a moment to order a glass of wine, then said, “I was surprised you agreed.”

“I have my reasons.” He paused. “Why exactly are you here, Granger? Not that I don't love your company, but I was under the impression this was between Harry and I.”

“She had some good ideas,” Harry said. His cheeks flushed a bright red and he fiddled with his glass of water. “I -”

“Harry, would you go tell the waiter to get my check?” Hermione sent him a pointed look to leave, and he just frowned and nodded, giving Draco a strange look. Once he was far enough away not to hear, she said, “You want me to leave.”

“Yes.”

“Still unapologetic as ever, aren't you? Harry already knows all my ideas so I don't mind leaving, but promise me you won't hurt or scam him. He really believes in this.”

Draco leaned back, his eyes wavered to Harry, who was coming back. “Why did he come to me. It wasn't just Blaise, was it?”

She shook her head. “He hasn't let up since Hogwarts. I always hear him ask about you.” She lowered her voice in mock imitation of Harry, “What's Malfoy doing? Why is he always holding his head? Why is he going there? Does he have a place in America? I hear he's going to Italy for the summer.”

“Ah. So he's still as stalker-ish as ever, isn't he?”

Harry came up to them then, so they both went silent, staring at each other with knowing eyes. She stood and took the check from Harry and gave him a quick hug before she left. Once they were alone, Draco leaned forward and examined Harry's face. He hadn't changed much since Hogwarts. His scar was lighter though, a sign that time had passed since those terrifying years. Draco shivered. He felt like he was back in the Room of Requirement with his arms wrapped tight around Harry's torso. Back then, Harry had saved him; now, his mere presence rescued Draco from the headaches that had plagued him for too long.

“Why an exchange program?” Draco asked. “I noticed it's all for needy kids.”

“Yeah. I want to help them experience more and get a better education.”

“Why?”

“That's kind of personal.”

A group of four walked by their table, and Draco noticed that three pairs of eyes lingered on Harry as they passed. He flushed and snarled at them. “I don't care if it's personal. We're business partners now.”

“And that means I have to trust you?”

Draco crossed his arms and nodded. “Yes, you do. And we need to spend a lot of time together.” For my headaches and sanity, Draco added silently.

Harry scoffed. “It's what Hogwarts did for me. I don't care if they're Muggles or not. Everyone deserves to see something magical.”

“Wait, this is for Muggles?”

He laughed and sat further back in his seat. “No. But I hope to expand it to include them too. I hope that isn't a problem.”

“No. No it's not. It'll be a good way to make everyone stop glaring at me like I'm still wearing that awful mask.”

“Good.” Harry stood up, his face no longer relaxed but tense and he frowned at the ground with such intensity that Draco was glad it was not directed at him. With Harry's next words, Draco realized that it was indirectly his fault the ground was taking such a beating, but for what he wasn't sure.  
“I'll just be going now.”

“Why? We just -”

“It's okay. I'll just have Blaise fax over all the plans.”

“Potter -”

Harry hurried out, and with his departure not only the headaches returned, but his magic felt like it was in pain. It twisted his gut and made him dizzy and he felt an ache, like a piece of him was leaving with the other man. He couldn't take it, and he bolted from his chair with renewed energy and left after Harry without paying the bill. He caught up and grabbed Harry's arm and jerked him around. His headache disappeared, and his magic calmed, but he panted and bent over like he had run a marathon.

“Don't go.”

“Malfoy? What's wrong with you?”

“Please. I don't know why, but I just – Please don't go. Please. I don't want to feel like this, Potter. Harry. Take my hand. Please.” Draco straightened out and thrust his hand out like he had the first day at Hogwarts. “Please. I'm selfish, I'm cynical, I hate crab and I find your hair annoying. I hate the color red and how people look at you like you're a god or a piece of meat to be fucked.”

“You sure have a way with words, Malfoy.” Harry stared at his hand without moving. “I already knew all those things. Except the crab part.” 

The way Harry looked away from him at the last part made Draco grin. “You're lying. You knew that. You used to stalk me in sixth year, of course you knew that.” He stuck his hand out further to where he was almost touching Harry's shirt. “Please. Just give me a chance. I'm not the same kid I was in first year. Or sixth year, for that matter.”

Harry flushed. “I didn't think you were.” He took Draco's hand, and a warmth flowed between them, like their magic was touching each other. “Did you feel that?”

“Feel what?” He grinned. Harry didn't need to know what had been happening for two years, because if Draco was right, Harry had felt something similar, but not as painful.

When he arrived at the Healer's the next day, he was grinning from ear to ear when he sat down on the familiar chair. She sat in front of him with an eyebrow quirked up and a smile on her face.

“Am I safe to say it's going well between you two?”

Draco nodded slowly. “Yeah. You could say that.” He paused. “I just came in to tell you to cancel the rest of my scheduled visits. They weren't worth the money anyway.”

She chuckled and said, “Say hello to Blaise and Harry for me.”

Draco stopped at the door and looked back at her with a quirked eyebrow. If she or Blaise had anything to do with it, he didn't want to know. He had a date – No, he corrected himself, business dinner with Harry tonight, and there was nothing that could mess that up.


End file.
